


Shadowed Intentions

by keirajo



Series: The Prime and the Emperor [4]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/M, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 15:36:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20530403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: On Brex, secrets are being kept--ones which may endanger Rodimus Prime's peace conference there.   Kicker Jones and Sixshot, as well as the Mini-Cons, make plans to try and find out exactly what's going on in the city of Dreal.





	Shadowed Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> In case you've missed me saying it before--I love creating alien species and there's a nod to my MegaRod universe stuff here, showing more parallel stuff between the universes. :)
> 
> The second part of the trilogy premeire for the series. :D

** _ Shadowed Intentions _ **

After the break in the talks with Orso of Laka and Vivera of Kore, Rodimus Prime quietly spoke to the Mayor of Dreal, Nurda. He mentioned that Stormbreaker and the others had a disturbing encounter at the Classical Art Gallery and he had to speak with them about it. Nurda wished to go along and speak with his assistant, Yana. For the two leaders of the clan-cities in their separate recreational rooms, they were given catered food and drink to suit their whims and needs for the break.

“_Rodimus!_” Kicker said, hands on his hips and tilting his helmeted head with annoyance. “We’re still _not safe_ here. I’m going nuts and I’m getting a migraine,” the human boy snapped.

Nurda spoke with Yana in their native language and then summoned some guards and had patrols increased around the government building. He turned to the young Autobot Leader and his companions, bowing deeply with apology.

“Assistant Yana tells me that Professor Jurel is still here and we believed he had left Brex weeks ago. The fact that he is _still here_ without a legal passport means if we find him, he shall be arrested right away,” Nurda responded, a slight tone of frustration in his voice. “_Please don’t hold this against us_. The Coalition of Clans **_want _**this peace to happen—we’re afraid of Laka and Kore’s ongoing war.”

“Can you tell us anything about this Professor Jurel?” Rodimus Prime asked, keeping himself calm and trying to keep a calm field wrapped around both Kicker and Stormbreaker.

Stormbreaker didn’t seem to understand the entire situation, so she was in a mild state of confusion, but she understood that _Kicker_ was upset, so she was hovering around him. Kicker gave a soft grunt and accepted the warmth of the flame-colored mech’s EM field. He also started to calm down when he felt the love in Stormbreaker’s field against his not-as-strong EM field.

“He came to Brex about two months ago and supposedly had left a couple weeks ago,” Nurda said with a sigh, clicking his mandibles with a sense of frustration. He folded the two upper sets of legs (his arms) across his thorax and shook his head. “At least that’s what the governors and mayors of the clan-cities were told. He’s from a planet called **_Telos_**—it’s a Galactic Alliance world in the Core Galactic Center.”

“Yes, I’ve visited Telos before—the President of the Galactic Alliance is from Telos, _Harik Judur_,” Rodimus said, nodding his head and settling down on the floor, crossing his legs—mainly to get closer to the ground and save a bit of strain on his neck cabling from looking down at everyone.

“Professor Jurel is apparently **_an exile_** from Telos, because of his forbidden fascination with robotics and robotic life-forms,” Nurda continued, sighing deeply and clacking his mandibles.

“Yeah, he was a bit creepy with that vibe,” Kicker interjected, folding his arms over his chest. “He went straight for Stormbreaker, though, and ignored the Mini-Cons. I also got a sense of an EM field from him, too—so, he’s _not_ completely organic, not anymore.”

“_Cyborged_. **_Hmmm_**. I wonder………..” the flame-colored mech murmured, rubbing his chin lightly with thought.

“_Hey!_ Aren’t those guys who are always bugging Galvatron a bunch of cyborgs?” The human teenager gasped, looking up at Rodimus.

“_Trylians!_” Stormbreaker said, incycling a deep breath and looking up at her carrier with worry.

“_Indeed_,” the young Prime murmured. He began to worry, maybe the discussions that he and Galvatron were having with the command staffs of both the Autobots and Decepticons a few years ago might actually turn out to be true. Starscream was forging a dark alliance—finding people and species to ally with the Destrons, so that all the “_bad guys_” got what they all wanted most when the “_good guys_” were decisively defeated. Daniel and Spike had jokingly referred to it as the “_Legion of Doom_” from an old cartoon or comic book from Earth or something like that, but the essence and idea was the same. _Those who were standing against all of the Galactic Alliance, the Autobots and the Decepticons were starting to come together to form their own **dark alliance**._

“Rodimus………..didn’t you hear me, _he went right for Stormbreaker_!” Kicker snapped, aiming a kick at the flame-colored mech’s knee-joint.

“I _heard _you, Kicker. But you kept her safe and that’s what I believed in you to do,” the young Autobot Prime said, smiling down at the teenage boy. “If our theory of a dark alliance is turning out to be true, this person may have gotten information from Starscream—and that would not be surprising that this male may have information about Storm.”

Kicker grunted and settled down, Stormbreaker purred soothingly and hugged her human friend’s shoulders. 

What Rodimus Prime wasn’t saying aloud was that Starscream and his Quintesson ally might have some personal interest in Stormbreaker, because of…………what happened when he’d been kidnapped by Starscream while carrying her as a newspark. Some of Starscream’s CNA was inside of the femmeling—and while neither he nor Galvatron ever made an issue of the unfortunate incident, it happened and it was real. If Starscream made an ally of this Telonian and might have hinted at an interest in having Stormbreaker, offering a bounty even, that alone could explain one reason why this Professor Jurel had tried to go directly for Stormbreaker in the Art Gallery and not bothered with the Mini-Cons at all.

“So, what do we do now, Rodimus?” Kicker asked, reaching a hand back over his shoulder and patted the helm of the femmeling cuddling against his back.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to stay in the government building here, for now—or go back to the _Arrowshot_ itself, no more doing touristy things,” the flame-colored mech sighed softly. He reached over, rubbed a couple fingers over both Kicker’s helmeted head and Stormbreaker’s red helm fondly. “I need to continue the mediation for the next few days, at least, and see if progress can be made between the two clan-cities.”

“I _really_ wanted to see more, cari,” Stormbreaker pouted, letting go of Kicker and walking over to her carrier, reaching arms up for a hug. She gave a deep sigh. “I wanna go back to the _Arrowshot_. Can Yana come along, maybe she can show me pictures or videos of her planet instead?” The femmeling asked, snuggling against Rodimus Prime’s chest as he picked her up and hugged her fondly.

“Let’s ask Assistant Yana if she’d like to do that?” The young Autobot Prime chuckled. He sent a glyph to Slipstream to come and take Kicker and Stormbreaker back to the Arrowshot at the landing platform.

“I’d love to come back and see your ship—_so science_!” The Butterfly-Bee girl giggled happily. “Mayor, is it alright if I take a few encyclopedia programs with me?” She asked, looking at her boss and clasping her four upper limbs (her arms) together in a pleading gesture.

“_Hey, Rodimus_………” Kicker asked, his tone low and serious. “I wanna take a look around and keep an eye out for this guy. I can look out for myself and the Mini-Cons can come with me. Plus……..someone tiny like me can get around places it would be harder for Sixshot or Metalhawk to look around at.”

“I’d like to say _‘no’_, but you’re right. Your anticipation engine will keep you one step ahead of danger,” Rodimus Prime answered, softly.

“Assistant Yana, will you get Ensign Kicker a visitor’s passport?” Mayor Nurda said, looking at his assistant. “Then gather all the encyclopedia programs you want and go with Lady Stormbreaker to her Patron’s ship.”

Rodimus chuckled. If he explained that technically _he wasn’t the sire_, despite being male, it would probably be far too confusing to the Brexians. So, he simply accepted that he was basically referred to as the **_father_** of Stormbreaker, using this world’s terminology. The flame-colored mech kissed the top of his femmeling’s helm gently.

“Now, Storm—be a good femmeling for Assistant Yana and Slipstream,” Rodimus Prime said, firmly.

“I will, cari!” Stormbreaker said, nodding vigorously. “Kicker………….don’t get hurt, okay? _Promise me you won’t get hurt?_” She asked as her carrier set her down in front of the teenage boy.

“I promise,” the young man chuckled, raising a hand and extending a pinkie finger towards the femmeling. Stormbreaker carefully wrapped her smallest digit on her servo around his and they shook the grip lightly together for a moment.

Slipstream appeared, very quietly, and dipped her shoulders politely in the Brexian greeting custom. The teal-and-purple Decepticon femme reached down for Stormbreaker’s servo and held onto it gently as they waited for Yana to return with Kicker’s passport and the encyclopedia programs she promised to share with Stormbreaker. Then the three females left and went towards the _Arrowshot_ and the safety of its very fierce crew.

“Like you promised Storm, be very careful Kicker,” Rodimus Prime said, his tone low and serious. 

Kicker watched as Nurda wrapped an armband of some sort around his upper right arm. He nodded and smiled up at the young Autobot Leader.

“This has passport information in the little box attached to it, any automatic reader will read the information as you pass it,” the mayor of the clan-city of Durel said, making sure the armband was very secure.

Kicker laughed warmly. “It’s like an I-Pass back home—a thing put in cars to go through toll stations on the highways!” He said, though only some of the words translated into Galactic Standard as he said them. “What about the Mini-Cons?” He asked, looking up at Rodimus Prime.

“They already have passport programs installed,” Rodimus answered. “We can’t exactly install programs into you………now can we, Kicker?” The young Autobot Leader chuckled.

“_Pffft_, I suppose not,” the teenage boy laughed. “C’mon, guys………._let’s go exploring_!” He called to Scattor, Skyboom and Wreckage.

They warbled with each other and followed Kicker out of the building. Then they warbled at him, all of them shrugging.

“I’m not sure, yet, but I’ll know if we get close,” the young man responded, assuming that they were asking him “_what now?_”. “_Hmmmm_. Maybe I should’ve asked Miss Yana if I could use her golf cart thing?” He murmured, folding his arms over his chest as he looked around.

Scattor turned to Wreckage and warbled something, making some hand motions. Skyboom tilted his head and folded his arms across his chest and warbled in a querulous tone. Wreckage shook his servos up and down and then made an expansive gesture, warbling excitedly. Scattor rubbed his chin thoughtfully and his warbling turned very slow and low in tone. Then all three of them nodded at one another, warbling cheerfully, and transformed into their merged sword form, hovering a few feet from the ground next to the teenage boy.

“This is your sword form, hunh? So, what am I……….**_OH_**!” Kicker trailed off, then gasped as he grasped the idea the Mini-Cons were trying to convey to him. He snapped his fingers and laughed softly. “Like a skateboard or surfboard, hunh? _Yeah, I get it!_” He said, carefully hopping up on top of the three Mini-Cons’ sword form. He wavered a little as they hovered back and forth a few feet to make sure the human male could grasp his balance. “I’m good to go, guys………..let’s go look around and see if we can find anything to report to Rodimus!” He called cheerfully, putting as much warmth into his smaller EM field as he could.

* * * * *

Novablaze frowned as he looked at the report from his carrier—that he was instructed to give to Cyclonus (_and NOT Galvatron_). He was older, yes, but he still wasn’t allowed a lot of “_mature mech’s_” duties as of yet……..and the talks the Autobot and Decepticon command chains had been having were not privy to the common soldiers, yet. But he knew about _some of it_, if only because his sire raged every time he thought of Starscream creating an alliance of alien species—though mostly it was Galvatron snarling that Starscream never could do anything successful on his own.

But that this stranger on Brex had tried to approach and touch Stormbreaker annoyed the young mech deep to his core. He, like his sire, would be _infuriated_ if Stormbreaker got hurt or worse by anyone. But he didn’t agree with his sire that Kicker was an unsuitable candidate to watch over her. He’d met the human youngling a few times, Kicker was a couple years older than he was in a chronological sense……….and he’d seen Kicker’s unusual human abilities, as well as felt the boy’s EM field—which was stronger than a normal human’s, but not on the level of a Transformers’. Novablaze knew that Kicker would be able to protect Stormbreaker just fine from _anyone but a Transformer_, most likely.

That was proven true as the report stated that Kicker called a halt to their touring of the clan-city on Brex that they were in, making sure everyone went directly back to the government building and reported to Rodimus Prime. The young human had done so immediately after they’d met the strange Telosian and that proved to be a favorable decision that Kicker had made.

“Cyclonus, I have a report from my carrier for you,” Novablaze said, simply, handing the datapad up to the Decepticons’ Second-in-Command.

The young mech still hadn’t achieved his full final frame, yet, and while he was taller—he was still much shorter than most of the common-sized mechs here on Chaar. He only came up to around the center of Cyclonus’ chestplating—though only slightly above Galvatron’s abdominal area, when compared to his sire. His last growth spurt had defined more portions of his armour………..and while his space-plane alt mode was now a bit larger, his frame armour looked as if there may well be another alt mode in the future—_quite possibly a beast-type_. Novablaze’s boots had reshaped a little and the pedes ended in claws. His claw-like wristguards were also a little more bestial defined. His colors were still a deep purple with some yellow and his helm had started forming a tri-point crown—much like Galvatron’s style.

“_Hmmmm_,” Cyclonus murmured, reading the report and then reaching up to rub his chin, thoughtfully.

“Cari’s right, though—I don’t think we should tell sire about this, yet. I mean, you say Stormy’s designation and the word _‘danger’_ in the same sentence, he’ll go **_ballistic_**,” Novablaze murmured, quietly, looking up into his teacher’s optics.

“This is true,” the purple-and-grey aerial mech responded. “I will send a response to the Prime and encourage that we discuss it once they have concluded their conference on Brex and come here for that period of rest.” The Decepticon carefully put the datapad in a subspace pocket and began to head for the communications’ room to send a message of response. “Young lord, I would prefer for you to go back to the embassy for today. I will likely spend the remainder of my day keeping this information from Lord Galvatron and I shall need all my wits to do so.”

“Okay, Cyclonus,” the young mech responded, smiling up at his teacher and then dashing out of the palace. As soon as he was outside, he transformed into his alt mode and flew around for a bit. He still didn’t have the hang of flying with his boot and jetpack thrusters yet, so it was easier to get around in his alt mode for now. Then he landed in front of the embassy and walked in.

It really was nice to see Autobots—and even a few Decepticons sometimes—hanging around the embassy nowadays. Rather than the weekly shuttles that they’d started out with between Cybertron and Chaar, they had evolved into daily shuttles. The Decepticons had caught onto this and decided that they would construct “_temporary hab suites_”, or as they called them on Earth by the term of “_hotels_” and get a little more shanix out of Autobot (and Decepticons from Kesia) visitors by encouraging them to stay overnight or for a few nights. That had really helped Autobots and Decepticons to interact with each other a bit more. The embassy, itself, became more of a meeting place for friends and acquaintances to hook up with one another before going to the entertainment district or the hotels.

All of this had started to encourage the administrative staff centered in Iacon and Kesia back on Cybertron to start working on similar things for them to enjoy on Cybertron—and maybe get some of the Decepticons from Chaar to visit their old homeland. Those ideas were still in progress as Galvatron had ordered them “_do not imitate what we have done on Chaar!_”, so they had to find a way to create some kind of tourist area that didn’t directly copy everything that had been done on Chaar. And, also, it took something of a backseat to the general restoration of Cybertron—which would likely take centuries in its own right.

“_Welcome back, Nova!_” Windblade called, cheerfully, seeing the young mech enter the lobby.

“_Hi, Windy!_” The purple-and-yellow young mech responded, waving at her and walking over to the seating area of the lobby. “_Hey, hi, Jazz!_ How’s everyone doing on Earth?” He asked, hopping up to sit on the couch next to the older white-and-black colored Autobot.

“They’re all doin’ fine, kid. Things are goin’ well, I think,” the Autobot special ops officer chuckled, reaching over to rub Novablaze’s helm fondly. “How’re things here for ya on Chaar?” He asked, smiling at the young mech.

“_Good_. Sometimes sire can get kinda cranky without cari here, though,” Novablaze laughed, warmly. “Cyclonus usually tells me to go find something else to do when sire gets cranky though and I come back to the embassy to help out here. Like right now.”

“Have ya heard from ol’ Roddy lately?” The Autobot asked, curiosity in his voice.

“Yeah, got a message from him today. Brex is interesting and it looks like it may take the full week to talk with the two groups and stuffs,” Novablaze responded, shrugging lightly. He was careful not to mention the possible issue of trouble that may be happening on Brex right now.

“D’ya miss havin’ him around? And your sis?” Jazz asked, warmth in the tone of his voice.

“Yeah, but cari’s so happy doing all this peace stuff. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so alive and happy, so sire’s right when he says this is what cari’s gotta do,” Novablaze answered with a big grin. “And Stormy has had a lot of fun, she tells me all these great stories every time she visits—so, even though she cried a lot before having to leave Chaar, I think it’s really been good for her to be on all those adventures with cari.”

“Then it’s all good, man,” Jazz chuckled, leaning back against the back of the couch and stretching his limbs.

A small group of Autobots came in and Windblade greeted them at the door, glyphing someone else in the embassy to come out and help her. Quake came into the lobby from the commissary and helped greet the new guests at the door. As he began to give a tour, he saw Novablaze in the seating area and gave a light wave to his young friend, even as he kept talking about the embassy and its purposes. The young mech waved back and then returned to his conversation with Jazz.

After about twenty minutes, Jazz left to go visit the entertainment district and the group of Autobots began to mill about the lobby area. Windblade began to serve some light snacks as Quake went over to the seating area and sat down next to Novablaze.

“You’re back early, Nova,” the old Decepticon warrior said, cheerfully.

“_Yeah_. I think Cyclonus was worried sire might have a tantrum today, so he sent me home early in case he needed to do damage control,” Novablaze laughed softly.

“Heh, sounds about right,” Quake chuckled. “Are you all right though? It feels like you’ve got a little bit of worry rippling about in the core of your field……….” the old Decepticon warrior asked, looking over at his young friend.

“_Oh!_ It’s nothing really. Cari and Stormy are on a new planet, I always get a little worried when they go somewhere new,” Novablaze murmured, twining his fingers together and staring at his servos.

“Yeah, I get that,” Quake responded, reaching over and rubbing his helm fondly. “But Rodimus is pretty strong—hell, he can actually stand his ground in combat with Galvatron.”

“It’s true, cari’s strong in this form………..but he could still beat sire in his original form, too. He was fast and sire’s not very fast at all,” Novablaze laughed.

“**_That _**is something worth learning for combat,” the old Decepticon warrior chuckled.

“That was one of the first things sire decided to teach me, was how to throw an opponent, because cari could do it to him all the time!” The young mech giggled.

“At least Galvatron knows his limitations,” Quake said, grinning. “Even if he _pretends _he doesn’t have them. Bluffing can also be a useful thing in combat, too, it seems he’s already quite aware of that.”

* * * * *

Kicker, and the Mini-Cons in their hovering sword-form, swerved through traffic of the slow-moving golf carts. The young human male was listening to his own internal senses, waiting to feel when his sense of danger and anticipation became stronger than ever before. Looking around the city of Dreal was peripheral to the mission he chose to take on. He was glad that Rodimus didn’t try to be over-protective and realized that his skills and his observations could be far more useful if the teenager were free to do so.

Suddenly, he got a sharp throbbing in his temples and he could feel his hair flaring about his head underneath the helmet. “Hey, _here_—**_stop here_**, guys!” Kicker said, suddenly, leaning forwards and kneeling on top of the hovering sword-form. As soon as they stopped in front of a large walled building, Kicker hopped off and the three transformed into their primary forms, warbling softly and curiously.

The teenage boy frowned as he looked up the wall and saw a fancy building somewhere behind it. Now if this were Earth—the building inside the massive protective wall could only be one of two things……….a high-security government building or a very, very rich person’s mansion. Kicker placed a hand on his hip and the other one reached up to rub the chinplating on his helmet. If the dangerous feelings—and quite possibly this Professor Hala Jurel—were centered here, it was unlikely a high-security government building. Mayor Nurda would’ve had the peace conference centered here if that were true!

Therefore it _had_ to be a very rich person’s mansion. And most rich people liked to keep very secretive little secrets. And they liked to mess with anyone who wasn’t on their level of financial status, they often felt it was their right and privilege. And a rich person might likely have the influence to “_extend the stay_” of a foreigner whose passport time had expired. That meant said rich person had great reason for favoring a foreigner like this renegade Telosian.

All of the sudden, Kicker sensed a Cybertronian EM field behind the walls. He looked at the Mini-Cons behind him and tilted his head. “Do _you guys_ feel it, too?” He asked, softly.

They all nodded and warbled with a tone of worry in their sounds.

Kicker started to reach out a hand to touch the wall when a voice behind him stopped him…….

“I really wouldn’t do that if I were you, young foreigner,” the clipped, clacking version of Galactic Standard said to him.

The human teenager turned to look at the person who stopped him. It was a Brexian, shorter than he was, that looked to be some odd mix of a Luna Moth and a Fly. Their body was mostly like a Fly’s, except for the large, luminescent wings of a Luna Moth. Likely male by the particular style of clothing they were wearing.

“It’s got a staggering charge field in the wall—it’d probably fry you if you touched it,” the Brexian continued.

“_Ah!_ Thanks for the warning then!” Kicker laughed. “I was just curious about what kind of citizens lived in a place like this, it’s different than the other buildings in the city. I think you guys are really cool-looking and all!” He added, keeping the tone of his voice warm and friendly. He did think the Brexians were cool-looking, he loved all sorts of bugs as he was growing up and still thought they were kind of cool.

“That’s where Matron Grena lives—she’s the descendant of the founder of Dreal,” the Fly-Moth male answered, nodding his head politely. “Are you visiting with the peace conference people?” He asked, curiously.

“Yep, I’m with Ambassador Rodimus Prime’s crew. He told me I could look around the city with my friends, Mayor Nurda gave me a passport,” Kicker answered, pointing to the band on his upper arm. He looked back at the wall and building behind it. “The building’s different than all the others in the city, how come?”

“_Imported materials_, but Matron Grena can afford a lot of strange things,” the Fly-Moth laughed. “I’m **_Tril_**……and you?” He introduced, nodding his head and motioning with a limb as all the Brexians did upon greeting others.

“I’m **_Kicker_**. These guys are _Scattor, Wreckage_ and _Skyboom_,” he introduced, pointing to himself and then each of the Mini-Cons in turn.

The Mini-Cons all dipped their heads and motioned with a servo, but Kicker explained he didn’t know the custom and didn’t want to mess up a “_proper greeting_”. Tril said that was all right, he understood that Kicker was a foreigner and wouldn’t be aware of all the customs of a new race of beings.

Kicker walked with Tril………..and the Mini-Cons followed along behind him………..the Brexian gave him a historical rundown of Dreal, explaining about the founder and Matron Grena’s position in the city as a descendant of the founder. Kicker started making a lot of mental notes, because now he had a lot to report to Rodimus Prime about the situation.

A rich person favoring an alien—a dangerous alien with an obsession for robots. A Cybertronian EM field somewhere on the other side of that wall—inside the rich person’s mansion. Things were getting stranger and stranger by the minute. But one thing made Kicker worry a lot more than anything else……….that Cybertronian EM field on the other side of the wall—it was weaker and “_wobbly_”. “_Wobbly_” was a word that Rodimus and Stormbreaker often used when an EM field was incoherent in its emotions, based upon not feeling well or fully up to charge.

So, that Cybertronian behind that wall was weak and didn’t have a full charge, meaning they could be sick and/or abused terribly. That news would not sit well with Rodimus Prime—Kicker knew how much the flame-colored young mech cared about life and he hated to think of Cybertronians being abused. The Autobot Leader would be treading a very fine line as an Ambassador and also as a protector of all life and he might find himself conflicted and constricted by one position or the other.

As soon as Kicker and the Mini-Cons returned to the government building, he went right to the Arrowshot since Rodimus seemed to still be in conferences with the Governors of Laka and Kore. So, without Rodimus around to tell, the teenage boy went looking for Sixshot and found the old Decepticon warrior in the hab suite that he’d converted into an office. As the Ship’s Second and Chief of Security, Sixshot had asked to convert one of the rooms into an office for such purposes.

“Hey, Sixshot………..I have news that may not be all that good to hear,” Kicker said, as the Mini-Cons all looked around for choice seating and dashed for places they wanted first, removing his helmet. “First of all, I found my senses of danger and awareness of that creepy guy led to an extremely wealthy person’s mansion. Secondly, I could sense a weak Cybertronian EM field in the mansion—but I couldn’t get close to it because of its security measures.”

“That’s _definitely_ not a good sign,” Sixshot said, standing up and walking around his desk to pace the room and ponder the situation.

Scattor warbled cheerfully and hopped up into Sixshot’s vacated chair, swiveling it around and around playfully. But Wreckage stood up from where he was on the interview couch and warbled in a very serious tone, making a few gestures with his servos. Skyboom just looked very sad and warbled in a low and sad tone. Sixshot and Kicker looked over at the two and shrugged, unable to completely understand what they were saying.

“Normally I’d ask Stormbreaker to translate for me, but I have a feeling this is stuff she wouldn’t want to—_and likely shouldn’t_—hear,” Sixshot sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “She can be a lot like the Prime and feel wounds for others when they are in pain.”

“I know it’s cliched and I’ve seen it a million times in movies back on Earth, but………..slavery, maybe?” Kicker asked, looking up at the old Decepticon warrior. “Though I’m not sure how someone like this Hala Jurel could possibly enslave someone like a Cybertronian……….”

Sixshot crossed an arm over his chest and reached up to rub his chin with another servo. “Not necessarily, it could be a minibot or……….._a Mini-Con_?” The Decepticon warrior said, gazing down at the teenage boy.

That was when Scattor hopped up in Sixshot’s chair and pointed at the Decepticon, warbling quickly.

“You think it’s a Mini-Con?” Sixshot asked, glancing at the Mini-Con curiously.

Scattor warbled and nodded, as well as his two fellow Mini-Cons echoing the motions from where they were sitting.

“That wouldn’t surprise me. Doubledealer said there were a lot of them in the galaxy, but they tended to stay together in groups. They liked being in big groups of Cybertronians and each other,” the Decepticon warrior answered softly.

“Then for one to be alone like this must be terrible for it, as well as probably being enslaved by this Telosian,” Kicker said, placing his hands on his hips and shaking his head sadly. Now he knew why Wreckage and Skyboom’s warbling sounded very upset and sad. If this “_prisoner_” were another Mini-Con, alone and enslaved, these three must be very empathetic towards its situation.

“The Prime isn’t going to like this, not at all,” Sixshot sighed. “It goes against everything he believes about freedom and choice—and his love of his species.” Then the old Decepticon warrior facepalmed himself. “It’s going to be worse if he gets upset over this and Lord Galvatron can feel it through the Spark-bond. My leader will immediately rush here to confront whosoever is making his Prime hurt. _That would be very, very bad_.”

Kicker’s eyes widened and his mouth made a little “**_o_**” of surprise. Just imagining Galvatron alone storming here to Brex and blasting everything (and everyone!) in sight until Rodimus Prime had calmed down was a vision of apocalyptic proportions. Brex would be decimated before Rodimus could even explain the situation to him! Not to mention that the fact that if Galvatron found out an alien was targeting his little Stormbreaker—the whole planet would be blown up without a second thought on the Decepticon Leader’s part. This whole thing was going to be an epic disaster………………

“The problem is, this is a very rich and very honored person’s mansion—and getting in won’t be easy,” Kicker said. “But if we want to stop Brex from becoming dust rather than a planet, I think we’re going to need to hide this from Rodimus and try and get to the bottom of things without his help,” the teenage boy continued. “Can you make sure that you keep Rodimus focused on the peace conference and everything?” He asked.

“Kicker, I like you a lot for a fleshling, but I don’t think I can allow you to take on a massive risk like this alone,” Sixshot sighed, softly, shaking his head down at the boy.

“I _won’t _be alone—I have the Mini-Cons with me, together we’ll be an unbeatable team!” Kicker laughed.

The three Mini-Cons all hopped out of their seats and stood with the teenage boy, raising their servos above their helms and slapping them together. Kicker patted his hand to their servos in the familiar friendly gesture.

“You guys have watched a lot of Earth television, haven’t you?” Kicker laughed. “I know that Metalhawk used to be special ops in the Autobots, maybe he can shadow us?” The teenage boy asked, looking up at Sixshot.

“I’ll speak with him and tell him to be discreet about it,” the teal-and-white Decepticon said firmly. “It would be best if we wait until nighttime to try anything at all. Tell me about this wall and we’ll start making some plans………..” he said, nodding down at the foursome.

* * * * *

“So, the guy I met, Tril—he tells me that the sunsets are gorgeous here,” Kicker said to Rodimus as the crew of the ship met in the conference room for late afternoon fueling—or, for Kicker, an early dinner. “I thought I’d go out and try and find a good place to get some video of it for Stormbreaker, take some fun touristy pictures and all.”

“_Awwww_……….thanks, Kicker!” Stormbreaker gushed happily. “I wish I could go outside, but that guy sounds super-creepy and I don’t wanna get mixed up with him.”

“Maybe the next time you’re back out to Earth and Athenia for some long while, we’ll go to the zoo again or something else that you might like to do, to make up for it,” Kicker responded, smiling over at the femmeling fondly.

“_Ooooooh, **want**!!!_” The red-colored femmeling said, excitedly.

“So, it was pretty quiet out there, hunh?” Rodimus asked, looking down at the boy, curiously.

“Surprisingly enough, yeah,” the teenage boy chuckled. “These Brexians are pretty cool. I never knew that a bug-like people really existed and they’re all like kinda similar-looking hybrids of bugs I know back on Earth—_that’s really awesome_!” He added with a big grin.

“We’ll talk later, all right,” Rodimus said, firmly—suddenly realizing Kicker was trying to “_laugh it off_” for something very important. A character trait that was ridiculously like his father’s. But likely whatever Kicker was avoiding talking about was likely something Stormbreaker really shouldn’t hear.

“Got it, big guy!” Kicker laughed, warmly, grinning up at Rodimus Prime. “Oh, and don’t worry—we’ll be back at a proper bedtime kind of time. I don’t plan to be up much later than moonrise and that’s two hours after sunset. I’d like to get some pics and videos of the moonrise as well as the sunset.”

“All right. Keep your helmet on for me, would you? That way I can contact you if I need to?” The flame-colored mech said, gazing down at the teenage boy very seriously.

“As long as you’re not going to nag or lecture, I will,” Kicker shot back, frowning. Then amended himself when Sixshot gave him a very subtle glare. “I’ve been keeping it on anyways, I don’t want to explain the hair thing to a bunch of strangers.” Then he looked at Rodimus, puzzled, because the Autobot Leader’s field was in some kind of mess and he couldn’t figure out what it was about. “What’s wrong with you? You’re as fidgety as a child who doesn’t want to be with their parents right now……..” the young human male asked.

“Galvatron has been glyphing me every five minutes and I keep telling him I have things to do. And then I have Magnus glyphing me, as well, every few hours! How in the Pit am I supposed to relax when I’ve got both of them demanding my attention?” The flame-colored mech grunted, picking up his can of Energon and downing the rest in one big swallow. “I’ve had to leave the last few glyphs from them marked _‘unread’_, just to see if they’d stop.”

“It’s nothing really bad, is it?” Minerva asked, leaning back in her chair at the conference table.

“Magnus says he is asking how Kicker is on behalf of his dad, I sent him a response earlier saying everything is all right, but…………he says that Thomas is bugging him every few hours to ask me,” Rodimus answered, looking at his Ship’s Chief Medical Officer. Kicker groaned and facepalmed himself. “But Galvatron is needy for attention and worried for his little bratling,” the flame-colored mech added, reaching over and rubbing Stormbreaker’s helm fondly. Rodimus placed his palm over his faceplate and grumbled. “Galvatron is _so needy_ sometimes………”

“_Pfft_,” Sixshot made that noise, trying to stifle laughter. “_Really, Prime_?” He chuckled.

“Yes, well…………Galvatron **_knew _**what he was getting into with me,” the flame-colored mech responded with a groan. “I’d better go and contact him before I get a dozen more glyphs saying _‘contact me, NOW, Prime’_!” He laughed, getting up from his chair and asking if Stormbreaker wanted to say “_hi_” to her sire as well. She immediately bobbed her head and said “_YES!_” excitedly, holding up her arms to Rodimus Prime to be carried to the communications area on the bridge.

The two of them left and Kicker finished up his dinner as Minerva and Skyjack said good-night and headed off to do whatever they did to wind down before recharge. Metalhawk and Fangry left soon after they did and Metalhawk gave a glance towards Sixshot, which said that the two of them were using communiques. That left Kicker with the Mini-Cons, Sixshot and Slipstream in the conference room.

“Is there something I should be filled in on?” The Decepticon femme asked, quietly.

“We’re keeping this very low-key right now, only because it could trigger an apocalypse known as our glorious leader,” Sixshot murmured, reaching for his lover’s servo and clasping it fondly. “Just keep close watch on Stormbreaker, we’re going to try and curb the danger before it hits critical. Kicker’s got a very keen mind and took in a lot of details—I’m going to rely on him and the Mini-Cons to gather more information for us.”

“And Metalhawk?” She asked, smiling far-too-sweetly at the teal-and-white Decepticon warrior.

“Yes, well. He’s going to shadow our group of _‘little ones’_ here, just in case the worst happens,” Sixshot chuckled.

“I’m still going to get pictures and video of the sunset and moonrise—because Stormy would like to see them—it just gives me a good excuse to be wandering around the city _‘aimlessly’_, because I’ll be looking for good views,” Kicker responded, keeping his voice quiet, since the bridge was just beyond a set of doors. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do against the giant bug zapper they’ve got there,” he murmured, shoveling a bit more of his microwaved meal into his mouth and chewing as he thought about it.

“_Bug zapper_?” Slipstream inquired, curiously.

“A wall with a charge running through it—like an electrical fence,” Sixshot answered, quietly. Then the old Decepticon warrior shook his head. “That is a **_horrible_** analogy, Kicker—especially considering the planet we’re on,” he chided, looking over at the human boy.

“_Heh_,” Kicker chuckled, grinning at the old Decepticon warrior.

“So, you need something portable to drain a charge fast, correct?” Slipstream murmured, rubbing her chin thoughtfully as she crossed her other arm over her chestplating.

“Too risky, if the charge is drained from the wall, even for a few moments, it could trigger alarms,” Sixshot replied, glancing at her.

“Then……….redirect the currents for a few moments, perhaps?” The teal-and-purple femme asked, looking between the human teenager and her Decepticon lover. “How long would it take you to scale the wall?” She added, looking directly at Kicker.

The teenage boy looked over at the Mini-Cons. Scattor shrugged and looked at Wreckage and Skyboom, who echoed the shrug. The three warbled and drew patterns with their fingers on the table. Kicker watched them curiously, the table had some kind of “_wipe-off_” ability or something, just in a digital format. They appeared to be doing calculations of some sort. Slipstream and Sixshot also leaned over to watch them do the calculations together. Kicker couldn’t read the glyphs and the numbers didn’t make a lot of sense to him, but the two Decepticon soldiers knew what the Mini-Cons were calculating and looked at each other quietly, but likely using communiques with one another.

“The Mini-Cons think it can be done in three minutes or less. There was something Shockwave created for a lot of us units a long while back which is a _field separator_,” Slipstream said, carefully. “Charge is simply a different sort of field,” she explained, reaching into a subspace pocket by her shoulder armour, bringing out a disc-shaped object. “As this _‘bug zapper wall’_ likely also has tactile alarms on it, this is what you should do. The Mini-Cons will do the moving and you’ll do the dispersing. As they rise, you hold this disc near the wall, but do not touch the wall—the charge should part like water in the wake of a boat, once past, the charge will reform as water does.”

“We’re guessing that the wall may have a proximity alarm at the top and that’s why we need to part the charge, even if you all hover over the wall,” Sixshot added, filling them in on the communique discussion he and Slipstream just had. “At least, we hope the reason for the charge is a proximity reason.”

“I suppose, at worst, if I get caught I could say the Mini-Cons and I were looking for a good view to get video of the sunset and moonrise. The wall really would make a good high spot to get over some of the cityscape views of the sky,” Kicker said, softly.

“Flimsy, but…………it’ll have to do,” Sixshot sighed. “Kicker. _Be extremely careful_, all right?” The old Decepticon warrior said firmly.

“_Got’cha_,” the teenage boy responded with a nod.

* * * * *

Surprisingly enough, it was very easy to get over the wall with Slipstream’s field separator device. The interior lawn of the mansion’s grounds was very well cared for—very green and lush. An oddity for a city all gleaming and glass-like. Kicker and the Mini-Cons found no other security devices anywhere on the grounds or at the entrances of the mansion—the owner probably figured that the wall itself would keep out any unwelcome guests.

Kicker nearly had a heart attack when a text message flared up on the visor in front of his eyes in the helmet. He stood as still as a statue, panting hard as the Mini-Cons all rubbed his back and shoulders. He could hear a light chuckling in their soft warbling. So, **_this_** was what Rodimus was experiencing all day with Galvatron and Ultra Magnus messaging him and it appearing on his HUD behind his optics!

The message was from Rodimus, of course.

**|I don’t know what you’re doing, Kicker—and I don’t want to know. Do not risk your life, I can’t explain that to your father.|**

Kicker had to wonder if Rodimus had grilled Sixshot after Stormbreaker went to bed.

“Can you message him back and tell him we’re **_fine_**?” The teenage boy whispered to his companions. “_And please ask him not to scare me like that again!_” He hissed. He glanced at his chronometer at the side of the visor’s HUD. About ninety minutes until moonrise. So eighty minutes until he should be ready to take more videos and photos, eighty minutes to gather more information………..

The young human male and the three Mini-Cons wandered around the mansion’s outer walls when they came to a place that was a large room designed for people to relax in and host company in relaxed settings—in the old days of Europe, Kicker believed they called it a “_drawing room_”. And there were definitely people in it! The teenager immediately recognized the Telosian’s voice, because of the encounter with him at the art gallery. They weren’t speaking Galactic Standard, nor were they speaking Brexian—so, it made Kicker wonder if they were speaking Telosian?

The second voice, though, it was a Brexian………….even though it wasn’t speaking Brexian or Galactic Standard. Kicker could tell by the odd clicks and hisses in it.

“Stay behind me, I’m going to try and get some video,” the young man said to his companions in the quietest of whispers, he knew their audials could pick up anything. He held up his datapad, trying to angle it into the room to pick up the voices and maybe visuals—the two were moving around while speaking, so he couldn’t keep them in frame for very long, so he hoped that he was getting all of their dialogue instead. Rodimus would know how to translate it…………

All of the sudden, Kicker felt an EM field come close and a presence come over to the window. A small Cybertronian looked down at them, their colors were black and grey and their optic glass was glowing a faint crimson. They were small, like the Mini-Cons were, and staring right down at the human teenager. Suddenly the small Cybertronian placed a finger over his lips to indicate silence and pulled the curtains shut, even as the other two in the room began speaking angrily in the direction towards the small, grey-and-black mech.

_‘He saw us and didn’t report us—he gave us the opportunity to get away,’_ Kicker thought, motioning to the Mini-Cons that they needed to go and now. _‘That means he doesn’t want to be there.’_

They got back over the wall the same way they’d done before, using Slipstream’s field separator device and then ran down to the end of the block. Kicker nearly had _another_ heart attack when a shadow leaned over him, but he recognized the EM field right away and just slapped a hand over his chest as a gesture of catching his breath.

“_You guys_……….seriously, you’ll be the death of me in some way,” Kicker grunted. “Metalhawk, I’m not sure I like what I saw………….” he said, looking up at the yellow-and-blue Autobot carefully.

“Let’s get back to the _Arrowshot_—Rodimus wants to give you and Sixshot a stern lecture for going behind his back,” Metalhawk said, shaking his head lightly and transforming into his sleek aerial mode. Kicker hopped into the pilot’s seat and the Mini-Cons crammed in behind him. “But Sixshot had the right idea, we can’t have Galvatron rushing in _if he even senses_ Rodimus is in a despairing mood. Because he _will_. **_Definitely_**.”

When they got back, Metalhawk took Kicker and the Mini-Cons to Sixshot’s office, where the flame-colored mech and the old Decepticon warrior were waiting for them. The former Autobot special ops officer smiled, gave a polite salute and then went back to his own hab suite.

“Now, Prime………….before you come down on any of us, you have to promise you’re going to keep yourself calm, because if you don’t—Lord Galvatron’s going to be here even before you can glyph him and say not to do it,” Sixshot said, seriously. “I _know_ he’s sensitive to your feelings through the Spark-bond and you can’t get upset if we tell you what Kicker’s discovered.”

“I’ll try not to, but we’re _not_ here to interfere with the Brexians—we’re here to forge a peace contract,” Rodimus Prime said, sternly.

“There’s something going on Rodimus, something that I don’t think is very good and may even be something relating to the peace conference you’re trying to have,” Kicker said, booting up the video he took at the mansion, feeling a bit of regret he couldn’t get a moonrise for Stormbreaker because of the rush out of there. He walked over to where Rodimus was sitting and handed the datapad up to the young Autobot Leader. “The mech……….I _don’t_ think he’s there willingly,” he added as he noticed Rodimus watch the playback three times.

“They are speaking _Telosian_. It’s not a language the Brexians probably normally learn, which means this Matron Grena has been in contact with Hala Jurel for quite some time,” Rodimus Prime murmured, downloading the video to a personal datapad and then handing it back to Kicker after deleting the video from his datapad. “I _don’t_ want Stormbreaker even seeing that by accident, understood?” He asked, glancing down at the human teenager. Kicker nodded. “Sixshot—look at that video and tell me if you notice the collar about the Cybertronian’s neck. I think it may be keeping the Cybertronian from using skills or abilities to let him break free of Jurel’s hold—because I highly doubt he’s the slave of the Brexian.”

Sixshot took the datapad and watched the video a couple of times, just as Rodimus Prime had. “I think you’re right. The collar isn’t inhibiting the mech’s free will, but probably his ability to overcome a weak fleshling like this Professor Jurel,” the Ship’s Second and Security Officer responded, giving the datapad back to the young Prime. “You can tell by the way he gestured to Kicker and the Mini-Cons—he knew they were there and told them to be silent and essentially shooed them away for their own protection, that indicates _free will_,” he added, folding his servos together on his desk.

“This means Jurel knew I’d be here and………….I’m guessing he came by earlier to not make this look coincidental and when his passport ran out, he went into hiding with this Matron Grena, whom he must be very good acquaintances with,” Rodimus murmured. “That meant to the Brexian government, he apparently left when his passport was up. So, besides the number one question of _‘what is he after?’_—I think there’s another really good one………_where has he hidden his ship_?”

“It would be too big to be upon this Matron Grena’s mansion grounds, Prime—he’d have to have a fairly long voyage kind of ship if he’s from Telos and is an exile, that means his ship has a crew as well,” Sixshot said, shaking his head back and forth with worry. “But is it a crew of assistants or a crew of slaves? Could he possibly have more Mini-Cons at his command?”

“He _can’t _be with Starscream then, because Starscream would bully him into giving him his Mini-Con slaves,” Rodimus Prime mused softly.

“He still _could be_, though,” Kicker said. “I mean, look—an alliance doesn’t always mean they do all their stuff together,” the teenage boy added. “I’ve read a lot of comic books and stuff and alliances of good guys and bad guys just mean they usually have a common goal………..and sometimes they work towards that goal on their own individual paths. And maybe this guy hasn’t revealed his Cybertronian slaves to Starscream either………?”

“On that, I’m going to have to agree with the kid,” Sixshot said, giving a light chuckle. “After all, what do you suppose the ceasefire accords essentially were? It’s more or less peace, **_now_**, but at the start it was an alliance of convenience for the benefits Autobots and Decepticons could provide to each other. _That’s _what Kicker’s getting at—Starscream’s forming alliances of conveniences to get what he wants and needs to succeed, he doesn’t necessarily care what they do when they’re on their own.”

“All points taken. Unfortunately, we **_can’t _**interfere here,” Rodimus sighed, reaching up and rubbing his temples soothingly. “However, that doesn’t mean we can’t force Hala Jurel to leave and pursue him when he does.”

“How do we do that?” Kicker asked, brown eyes wide with surprise.

“We take away his chance,” the flame-colored mech said. “We move the site of the peace conference to another city.”

“Prime, that’s going to be a slap in the face to the Mayor of Dreal,” Sixshot groaned.

“I know, I hate the fact that we have to do that, because Nurda has been all around gracious and I like him a lot,” Rodimus Prime sighed. “But I believe he’ll understand, because what he wants more than anything is peace between Laka and Kore. If there’s a chance the peace conference can be disrupted here in Dreal, then it must be moved to ensure the conference goes properly.”

“Okay, that sounds well and good, but………..” Kicker began, placing his hands on his hips and frowned up at Rodimus Prime.

“He _won’t _be able to leave Dreal, Nurda has already warned their police forces to be aware of him—and he will not be able to creep around other clan-cities without the protection of Matron Grena, who can **_only_** protect him here in Dreal,” Rodimus said, firmly. “Once he realizes he can’t get what he wants, he’ll leave Brex. _That’s _when we can confront him.” Then the young Autobot Prime made some notes on his datapad. “Tomorrow I will speak with Mayor Nurda and the Governors of Laka and Kore about moving the location—that will give us about two days in the new location. Sixshot, we’ll discuss more plans later…………..Kicker, you and the Mini-Cons will keep by Storm’s side and protect her.”

“Understood,” the old Decepticon warrior responded.

“Yeah, got it,” Kicker said with a resolved sigh.

* * * * *

Sixshot returned to the hab suite he shared with Slipstream and slid into the berth with a sigh.

“Yes, well…….Rodimus is really quite intuitive. I doubt you’d have been able to hide it from him, you know,” Slipstream chuckled, reaching up to pat her lover’s chestplating fondly.

“It’s _not_ Rodimus Prime I’m worried at hiding it from, it’s Lord Galvatron,” the old warrior murmured, sliding an arm beneath the slender femme and pulling her close. “But Kicker has proven quite invaluable here. I know Lord Galvatron has little tolerance for fleshlings, but they’re really quite persistent and durable. They deserve respect.”

“I lived with some, for many centuries. The Krieslans were wonderful to me, I loved them all in the convent. Their lives may be so short compared to ours, but they live their lives so fully,” the teal-and-purple femme responded, crawling on top of Sixshot in a fluid and seductive motion. They kissed for several moments, as soon as Sixshot retracted his warrior’s facial shield.

Then Slipstream pulled herself up to a sitting position, straddling the older warrior’s groin and thighs. She have her lover a grin and slowly reached down for her hip plates, revealing connector ports and slid her servos pleadingly over Sixshot’s own hip plating. The teal-and-white mech chuckled and opened his hip plates, to allow Slipstream to take his plugs and place them into her revealed ports. The femme shuttered her optics and leaned forwards with pleasure as her lover swept her systems with warmth and fondness. She felt her charge building with anticipation, eagerly awaiting the interfacing soon to come.

“_Hah………haaaaah…………….**ah**!_” Slipstream mewled as Sixshot pushed lightly against her deeper firewalls, the ones protecting her core programming.

“As hot as this is, lovely one, I really do prefer the _physical_ part of fragging,” Sixshot purred, sliding his servos through the cords and closing up their plating. Then he pulled her down on top of him and rolled them over.

Her red optics onlined and glowed intensely with eager anticipation, looking up into Sixshot’s optics. “_Oh, you mechs_………….you so rarely have time for fun and games,” the femme chuckled lightly, lifting her servos to clasp lightly at Sixshot’s upper arms.

Sixshot chuckled and sat back, spreading her legs eagerly as he watched her panels slide open for him. “I enjoy plenty of fun and games, I just prefer the sloppiness of the physical side—it makes me feel like I really made the effort to overload,” he teased, lightly. He reached down and gently brushed a couple fingers along the underside of her slender spike, a lavender biolighting pulsed gently along the transfluid pressure line, showing she was aroused but not close to overload.

“_Mmmmm_…………I **_like_** that, lover,” Slipstream purred happily, twitching her body as Sixshot’s servo clasped around her small spike and began to stroke it teasingly. That was definitely making her hotter and more eager, she felt her valve tighten with anticipation of interfacing.

“I _know _you do, that’s why I always do this,” Sixshot chuckled. Her frame may be older, like his, but she still felt fiery arousal and enjoyed interfacing a lot. They’d talked a lot before winding up in the berth together and he knew that she was used to sharing a berth with two other mechs, so he vowed to prove that he alone could provide the pleasure she was used to with two. That meant learning all about what made her feel good—and to avoid what made her feel bad or brought back bad memories.

As Decepticons, they were far more physically oriented than the Autobots were. So interfacing was a primary component of their relationships. Words and courting were peripheral to a relationship. Most often the words between Decepticons were: “_You’re hot, wanna frag?_”………rather than going on a date and getting to know the other first. Talking before going to interface was rare and more often happened amongst the oldest of the soldiers—like Sixshot and Slipstream.

The ones who had already lived their wild and crazy Decepticon lives and were ready for something more, something new. Which is why now, in this current era, the ceasefire accords had worked so well between the Autobots and the Decepticons. Many of the Decepticons with Galvatron had been around for millions of years and had already been young, foolish and carefree (or careless) with their lives—the opportunity to pursue other things and an Autobot who seemed to understand what the Decepticons needed to “_live normal lives_” had found the perfect moment, finally.

“Come on, let’s enjoy what comes next together……….” Sixshot purred, leaning forwards to kiss her again, even as he adjusted his frame to merge with hers.

Slipstream groaned with pleasure as his thick spike penetrated the tightness of her lubricated valve. Sixshot’s kisses on her lips and faceplate moved down to caress at her neck-cabling, where he began biting playfully. Desire spiraled higher and higher for the both of them until they finally overloaded and then collapsed beside each other, exventing hard and waiting for the frames to cool down before doing anything else at the moment.

“This new era we find ourselves in…………I’m glad I found something with you,” Slipstream murmured, curling against Sixshot’s side.

“It’s nice to have someone who’ll be waiting for me, I never expected to enjoy _that part_ of a relationship so much,” the old warrior chuckled fondly, wrapping his arms around her. She yanked the thin blanket up over them and they fell into recharge together.

* * * * *

Rodmus Prime sat alone on the bridge, in the dark, watching the video Kicker had recorded several more times, trying to listen closely to the words. Then came the part that disturbed him most, Matron Grena wandering past the screen and saying: “_Then we’ll be rid of it all!_” in the Telosian language, with her clipped Brexian accent.

Shortly after that, the small grey-and-black Cybertronian had walked over to the window, clearly saw Kicker and the Mini-Cons—but there was _no surprise_ in those old red optics. It was almost……….like a spark of hope had ignited in them. The small Cybertronian made his shushing gesture and closed the curtains and the only sounds left were the Brexian and the Telosian snapping at the Cybertronian in the background, that was where Kicker had to end the recording.

Then there was _that collar_. It was clearly some sort of **_inhibitor_**. The lights on it pulsed in tune with a Spark—the flame-colored mech was familiar enough with Spark-spin and Spark-pulse to recognize that’s why the lighting was flashing so lightly. Starscream had used an inhibitor on him once and it had paralyzed him, but that was a different sort of inhibitor. It appeared as if this inhibitor kept this Cybertronian tamed enough to be a servant and wouldn’t let the Cybertronian use his powers or skills.

Someone with the skills to make such an inhibitor had to be Starscream and Raj-ur-Malekk. Maybe Kicker was right, Starscream was allying himself with others to get to his goal, but otherwise they all didn’t need to work together all the time. They’d share some benefits with each other to aid them all to their mutual goals. Otherwise, the agents in the alliance were free to work towards their own individual needs when not needed by the alliance. Seeking the things they **_all _**wanted………

_Power._

_ Control._

_ Dominance._

The young Autobot Leader sighed. One thing was clear, if he had learned anything about the Mini-Cons—they were **_never_** alone. If this Hala Jurel had one Mini-Con, _he had others_. Mini-Cons lived in groups, they longed for larger groups—but were almost always found in twos or threes at the very minimum. This black-and-grey Mini-Con was **_not_** the only one that Professor Jurel had—he had to have more than one Mini-Con slave on his ship. And that’s what they needed to do, drive the Telosian off the planet so they could stop his ship and find out the truth.

Right now, Rodimus Prime was bound to this conference and his own ideals of peace, he couldn’t interfere with any Brexians while here brokering peace for them. As long as Hala Jurel stayed with this Matron Grena, the young Autobot Prime couldn’t do a single thing without jeopardizing his position as a Galactic Alliance goodwill ambassador, but once the Telosian was off-world, all bets were off. Rodimus had Decepticons with him, who’d be quite happy to do the things **_he_** couldn’t bring himself to do, even if he _wanted_ to………._they could make the threats he couldn’t_.

Now he just had to wait and hope his plan would make the Telosian leave the planet.

**Author's Note:**

> Galvatron and Rodimus stuff next time. I promise. :)
> 
> Have some Sixshot and Slipstream, though. XD


End file.
